Her Tutors
by aratay26
Summary: The universe was sexist, and it seemed like nobody had known that the Anti-Christ was a girl. And along with Crowley and Aziraphale, she hopes that she won't destroy the world, because she really wants to see the next season of Doctor Who (although her tutors don't agree on that last bit.). CleverAntiChrist, Crowley/Aziraphale, OC
1. PROLOGUE

The universe was sexist, it seemed like, and nobody, _nobody_ at all had known that the anti Christ was a girl.

I mean, who could have expected the_ Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, angel of the bottomless pit, great beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, father of lies, spawn of Satan, and lord of darkness_, to be a girl?

But, unfortunately for sexist demons and angles and humans alike, anti Christ was a she, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, angel of the bottomless pit, great beast that is called Dragon, Prin_cess_ of this world, _Mother_ of lies, spawn of Satan, and lord of darkness, and she was feeling rather bored.

It had been 5 hours and 27 minutes and 31 seconds since she was born, and the only people she had met were two boring demons and one demon-but-not-quite.

Of course, she saw nothing, enclosed in the woven basket, but voices told stories.

If she had been a normal child, she would have been sleeping right now, and yes, she did feel the urge to take a really _really_ long nap, but her mind was spinning too fast to be quieted.

She had no intelligence of a 5 hour old. She had the intelligence of centuries of demons and angels and humans and..._Satan_ _himself_.

The only thing preventing her from leaping out of this outrageous but sort of comforting basket was her mortal body. And her annoying inability to speak.

The basket swung and she knew she was in a car, a good one, and heard very loud and abrupt noises.

It was music. _Galileo gallie-_

"Ohshitshitshitshit! Why _now_! Why _me_!"

Crowley the demon-but-not-quite was yelling, interrupting the music, and she sighed a bit, sorry that she couldn't listen to it more closely.

She mindlessly deduced that Crowley was not happy to be the one to receive her, because he didn't want the world ended.

She had heard of her role from the other demons, Hastur and Ligur, and had puzzled over that. Why would she want the world to end? She had been here for 5 hours so far and it had been certainly fascinating.

There were new things at every corner, like music Crowley's radio was playing right now, and the smell of the earth and the rocking of the car and everything she could do when she was older.

She was already dreaming, and seeing the future with clarity. Crowley was important. And some other blonde hair angel...he was also there with him, a bond between them.

The singer's voice suddenly became something else, and she stiffened.

She hadn't wanted to hear those words again. The words of the Satan.

The car veered and she started to cry, scared now, despite of everything her mind was telling her. Even if she was an anti Christ and she was clever (although clever was an enormously huge understatement) she was a baby still, and her father-evil and despicable-scared her. It was instilled in her bones.

Crying led to fatigue and fatigue led to sleep, and she soon fell, knowing where she was going to wake up.

The inevitable game of cards were about to start.

* * *

_7 years later_

_How to find a demon in London. _

7 year old Eve Young a.k.a Anti Christ and _blah blah blah_ mused in front of a lap top, her eyes half closed and her legs swinging underneath the chair.

She knew his name of course, but it was only a single word. She wasn't even sure if Crowley was his last name or first.

All the information she had on him was that he was a demon, his name was Crowley Something or Something Crowley, and he owned a Bentley.

Learning how he owned a Bentley had been easy. She remembered with glass like clarity how riding his car had felt like, and there was that distinct rumbling, too.

All this was not much, and the human part of her believed this was impossible, annoying and so tiresome, and just wanted to go back to painting her dress with muck.

But the immortal part of her had waited _7 years_, years she felt she needed to grow and react and _think_, and she had jumped to a conclusion after that.

She wanted to meet her kind.

She wasn't all demon, but was half, and she wanted to see that demon that had taken her to her parents-yes she had grown to think that the Mr and Mrs. Young were hers, possessively,-and make sure that the anti Christ thing was not a fairy tale she had came up with, like other stories her parents had told her.

Because no matter how her memories were perfect, there was always that little squirming doubt in her, that told her she was an attention seeking bastard with just a bit of intelligence in her.

She wanted to cry every time the doubt rose it's head, but she had gotten over crying. It was a phase reserved for babies, and she was not a baby anymore.

So. Back to finding the demon.

She jumped off the stool, and ran happily to the coffee table next to the couch. Or more likely, the telephone book on the coffee table.

It took 26 minutes to find 13 possible candidates. She smiled against the book that smelled like spilled coffee, and looked at the list.

She knew how to do this. This was like every morning when she guessed what the head title of the newspaper was. And trust me, she was never wrong.

She closed her eyes, held up a hand, and pointed at the paper. Then squeaked a eye open.

Her fingertip grazed a name, and conviction rose in her heart. It was him. She was sure.

_Anthony J. Crowley.  
_  
Nice to meet you, demon-but-not-quite.


	2. Chapter 1 : They Meet

A/N : Thanks to people who read the epilogue. This is my first time uploading fanfics, and I had expected like one favorite and one review. So thanks for that:)

I read a lot of fanfics myself(cough although that's not something to be proud of), and I didn't like it when the authors note was long or even _existed_, so I don't think I will be making author's note if it's not really needed.

Um, yeah, that's it, thanks again, and here's the first chapter!

Chapter 1 : They Meet (although they _had_ met briefly before, but, um, yeah.)

Crowley had a cross day, and it got even _more_ crosser when he discovered the child on his doorsteps.  
He had woken up in the back of Aziraphale's goddamned bookshop (which meant he endeared the bookshop a bit more than he should) with a hangover that could have killed a small elephant. Hell, even a _big_ elephant.

Grumbling, he'd bickered with the angel about his aching back and why-did-you-put-me-on-the-couch-for-fuck's-sake, not because he really _cared_, but because the kindness the angel's always shown him, always stung.

Then he continued to anger Aziraphale with two too many nasty jokes and surprises until the angel sincerely but firmly kicked him out of the bookshop, leaving him with the Bentley and nowhere to go.  
So he went to the place he went whenever a) he fought with Aziraphale b) Aziraphale was busy and needed him to go away and c), Aziraphale was missing : his flat.

And found the aforementioned child on his doorsteps.

The little one was dozing, sitting against his door, and he cringed. What in Satan's name was this little creature doing here?

He -although he wouldn't admit it-_gently_ nudged the girl with his toe, and stepped back, crossing his arms.

She woke, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, and blinked.  
Aziraphale would have been all over the child by now, cooing and making tea and biscuits, but Crowley did none of that, and just nudged the child again.

"Get out of my door, girl."

A blink. Slow one this time. She seemed like she was..._reminiscing old days_. Which was impossible, judging by the fact that she looked no more than a 8 year old.

"Oh. You're here." She stood, wobbly a bit, and smiled at him. "I've been waiting for you."  
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the girl, his mind spinning. The girl's voice was also immature, but she spoke with an attitude of a being far older than him. Did demons come out in baby-shapes now? But the girl's aura was not of a demon's, it was-

Crowley froze, and staggered.

He barely registered what the girl, no what the being, was saying, in the shock of it all, but still; it got to him. And let me tell you, it was more surprising than that time when Aziraphale kissed him dressed like a French priest.

"It might surprise you, um, I think you already _am_, looking at your face, but don't freak out, I just sorta happen to be the Anti Christ...?" She then scowled. "I'm hungry. I wanna sandwich."

Crowley stared at her.

"I-I-" He breathed out. "I'll just make...one call...Be-be right back."

She shrugged, and he called the angel.

And he would never admit that it had been for help.

It took about 7 minutes for Aziraphale to arrive, and Crowley spent the time keeping a safety distance of 5 meters away from the girl.

The girl toddled around his flat, looking mildly interested in his houseplants and ansaphone and the sketch of Mona Lisa on the wall.

"Is that real?" She pointed, and Crowley inched behind his desk.  
"Of course yes. Why would I keep a fake?"  
"Cool."

She smiled and he flinched-although he was pissed off that the work of Leonardo Da Vinci could be described as a word as simple as _cool_, he knew that the girl was an Anti Christ, and he was sane, so he did not yell at her-and she tilted her head.

"Are you scared of me?"

"...No. I'm apprehensive."

The child took a step toward him, and he refused the urge to step back.

"You remember 7 years ago, right? When you delievered me to the nuns?"

"Of course." _How could he forget?_

"You were the first..._right_ person I'd met since I was born. Hastur and Ligur were _twisted_. They weren't _right_. But you were different. You were cool."

"Uh. Thanks?"

She laughed. "You don't have to be apprehensive either. I don't any apparent powers or anything. I just have the title."  
Then the electronic sound of the front door opening reached them, and Aziraphale rushed in, eyes wide and mouth open.

"What do you mean, the Anti Chirst-"

The angel's eyes fell on the girl, and he went still. "Oh. Oh..."

She waved.

"Hi?"

Crowley sighed and motioned at the girl.

"Aziraphale, this is the anti Christ. She's apparently hungry and she wants a...what did you want?"  
"A sandwich. With jelly, if you have some."  
"Yeah, something like that. Can you make it?"

They looked expectantly at the angel, who looked at Crowley, then back at the child, then back at Crowley.  
"What?"  
Crowley sighed, again. It was going to be a bad day, he could tell.

_And he loved bad days._

After Aziraphale had calmed down and miracled up a strawberry jelly sandwich, they sat around the dinner table and looked at the girl eat.

"I thought the Anti Christ was supposed to be a boy." Aziraphale said, watching with light in his eyes.  
She shrugged.

"That's sexist. But my mum was also surprised. She almost dropped me, yelling 'He's a girl!' It was really funny." She said through a mouthful of bread and jelly, some crumbs threatening to drop out and Crowley watched her, praying to Go- no _Satan_ that she didn't drop food on the never-used table he had bought in the 15th century.

"But the ambassor's son was supposed to be the-"  
"There was a mix up. One of the nuns mistaked my _dad_ for the ambassador. But I think it rather turned out wonderful. My parents are awesome."  
"Oh."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand carelessly and Aziraphale leaped forward, miracling up some napkins.  
Crowley rolled his eyes at him, and perked his feet on top of the table.

"Then why are you here?"

"What's your name?"

Crowley and Aziraphale asked at the same time, and exchanged disproving glances while the child pursed her lips.

"I wanted to ask you some questions." She then turned to the angel. "And my name's Eve, Eve Young."

"Well hello Eve," The angel smiled sincerely, and the girl, Eve, smiled back. Crowley scowled at the friendly faces, and lifted his chin in a questioning manner.

"What questions?"

"I've heard that I'm going to be the one that destroys the world. So just two questions. How and why?"

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look.  
'_We shouldn't tell her_.' Crowley projected his thought, and Aziraphale bit his lip.

'_No we should. She deserves to know_.'

'_She will destroy the world, Aziraphale_.'

'_Listen to her speak. She herself is wondering what for. If we are honest with her, we can help her overcome her destiny_.'

Crowley shook his head.

'_You can't overcome destiny. It's _**destiny**_. But if you're dying to destroy the world, fine. Let's tell her, and see how this game of worlds end up._'

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, and smiled quite calmly at the Anti Christ.  
"The Armageddon is scheduled 4 years later, the Saturday on your birthday week. A Hellhound will approach you on your birthday, and when you name it, you will come into power, and have the ability to destroy the world."

"Uh. Cool." Eve muttered, and blinked. "But why though? I love my town. I love my parents, my friends, and myself. Why would I want to end all this?"

"We dunno." Crowley answered, waving his hand in the air. "We just thought the Anti Christ was an evil basta- broke with an evil agenda, and will just end the world, as he- no _she_ felt fit. You're a surprise to us all."

She mused over that, studying the plain dark wood table.  
Crowley watched as the girl seemed to put her mind to something, tracing the pattern-less table with her fingertip. Then she looked up, face unreadable, and stepped off the stool that had been far too tall for her.

"Okay. Thanks. Um, I better go now, mum and dad would have been looking for me for hours now." She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. "Thanks for the sandwich. And the information, it was very helpful. And if you ever want to see me again, I would be in Lower Tadfield, and just ask for Eve Young. I'm pretty famous there." She stole a glance at the table, and winced. "Oops. Really really sorry about the table. I better run away from you now, um bye!"

Aziraphale looked vaguely surprised by her sudden goodbye, but Crowley was more distracted by the table.

"What'd you do-"

He froze.

"...Eve. Young! Get back here!"

Aziraphale briefly conflicted between following after Eve, or stopping Crowley getting to her, then decided he didn't have time to conflict.

He stepped between Eve and Crowley, wondering what in the heavens the girl had done to invoke Crowley's anger, and Eve glanced back and winced again, running toward the front door.  
Crowley tried to follow, but Aziraphale tackled him.

"Eve you evil Anti Christ you-!"

He flailed his arms and hit Aziraphale on the nose, knocking them both over, and ending them in a position that was both awkward and heart-racing.

Aziraphale swallowed, and stared into Crowley's crooked sunglasses on top of him. Their noses were centimeters apart, and his open mouth was quickly drying.  
The door opened and closed, and silence engulfed them.

Aziraphale's nose hurt, but it barely registered, his heart beating too fast. He was waiting now. Waiting for Crowely to take the lead, like he had always done before.

A hand cupped his cheek, and Aziraphale closed his eyes. But the kiss never came. "I'm sorry." Crowley murmured quietly, slowly raising his body away from the angel. Aziraphale opened his eyes, found that he was strangely disappointed, and blushed.

Crowley helped him stand, and they both looked at the table, or what the girl had left on the table.

Clouds and stars and grass.

And they were all moving.

The images changed, showing Crowley in a cartoonized form, with his dark wings, standing side to side with an angel with white-blue wings. Aziraphale.

They looked at the sunrise together, and they looked at each other.

"She's a wonder."

Aziraphale muttered, and Crowley, for once, looked calm. Wishful.

"She ruined my table." He whispered, then grabbed Aziraphale's shoulder. "I can't eat on that anymore."

"It's too precocious, dear."

Crowley leaned his head against Aziraphale, and made no move to contradict him. The angle smiled, content.

Maybe the world had a chance. A chance to be kept.


	3. Chapter 2 : They move

**Chapter**** 2 : One homophobic town watch, one blushing angel and one smug Anti-Christ.**

* * *

_A week later._

A couple moved into Jasmine Cottage, and not _any_ couple, a _gay_ couple. Mr. Tyler knew like the back of his creased hand what would happen next.

Kids would parade around, claiming _'love is love'_ and _rainbows_ and bloody _free rights_.

And Mr. Tyler, as the guardian of this town, believed he was the one to protect them from these evil.

Of course, he wasn't _homophobic_, that was _such_ a strong word, he was just...apprehensive. Yes.

Still, he couldn't help grumbling as he strode to Jasmine Cottage, on the far end of town. He didn't have time to care about fa-homosexuals. He had enough on his hands with Eve Young and her friends. They were trouble. _Mighty_ trouble.

They always trod on his flowers, ate his apples, scared his dog out of his wits, and destroyed the peace in his town. And every time he tried to scold them, that Eve Young made innocent eyes and with a tongueless accent, claimed that they were just children. Which was true, them being no more than 7 year olds, but Mr. Tyler was left feeling annoyed every time.

And _then_ he heard the news that the gay couple was going to be Eve Young's private tutors, and his jaw had fallen open.

That Young girl didn't need any more negative influences! He bet anytime now _she_ was going to be the one who marched around provoking even _more_ trouble.

And again, he had to be the one to stop them. He already had an idea. As soon as he found something about the couple that could shame them, they would run away, heads bent in misery. Which was why he was creeping outside the cottage's windows, doing what others might call spying, but what he thought was heroics.

Oh yes. One of the windows were opened and he put his ear next to it, straining to hear better.

"-What we did to poor Warlock.""Nah, I think it was a perfectly fine experiment. He turned out bloody arrogant, remember? I won!"

"No, he's just _his_ age. Most 7 years old boys are like that, Crowley."

"Still. He's a bitch-"  
"Watch your language, dear boy. We're going to be around Eve, and I won't have her learning that kind of foul words."

"Pfft. Like she doesn't already know all this shit."

Mr. Tyler frowned, and inched closer to the window, and unfortunately stepped over a twig and made an unfortunate _crack_ sound.  
Fortunately, the round-faced man kept talking, seemingly like he hadn't heard the noise.

"Eve might be an anti-"

He stopped in mid sentence, and Mr. Tyler frowned. He raised his aching head to peer inside the window, and scowled.

The fags were kissing!

The lean ginger-haired man pushed the other down onto the couch, all the while kissing ferociously, and Mr. Tyler turned away, disgusted. There was _really_ no need to see more.

He crept around the house, and backtracked his steps, cursing the god forsaken men. They were both

going to go to hell, he was sure.

They _all_ belonged in hell.

* * *

Meanwhile, as Mr. Tyler was about 20 meters away and surely not going to come back, the demon stopped what he had been doing, and quickly leaned off the stunned angel.

"Well, that was that."

Angel gaped.

"..._What_ was _that_?!"

Crowley smirked, sitting back on the table.

"That was me, cleverly avoiding a situation where the entire town found out Eve was an anti Christ."  
"But-but...you had to do that with a...?"  
"A kiss? Yep. Stand up, angel, you're making me feel bad. Which I like, by the way." He added, then tilted his head. "You're not giving this a second thought, right? We _do_ have the you-know-what. The Arrangement, you know."

Aziraphale, who indeed had been giving this a second thought, blushed.

"O-of course not."

For you to understand Crowley and Aziraphale's history and their eventual _Arrangement_, you have to know this.

Demons flirt. A lot.

Angels do not. Angels put a lot of meaning in meaningless things.

So which is why, sometime in the 16th century, after a rainy day and both of them drunk, lead to a fiery night both metaphorically and literally (Crowley set a few of his _houseplants_ on fire accidentally), things sort of fell apart.

In the morning, when the reality of what they had done struck inside Aziraphale's mind, he had cried, afraid that he would _Fall_. Crowley had held the Angel's shaking form, knowing he shouldn't be sorry, _knowing_ that, but didn't the fact that he was holding him in his arms just show that he _was_?

The demon felt guilt. He knew that was another failing of him as a creature of hell.

So both of them, pained and exhausted, made the Arrangement. They acted like _working_ together was the major part of the pact, but honestly, not _sleeping_ together was the whole reason behind the quote unquote Arrangement.

So Mr. Tyler should really not worry. They were never going to have sex again, and they were never going to tell the truth to each other, that they both _were_, and _are_ sorry.

* * *

_One year later._

"I love him."

Aziraphale smiled and patted her knee.

"Loving someone is a blessing, Eve. You might-"  
"Oh shut up, angel. She doesn't really love him. It's just a bloody tv show."

Crowley stated darkly, looking distastefully at the screen and Eve reached down the couch and smacked him on his back.

"_Ow_! Aziraphale! She just hit me!"

"And I had a perfectly good reason to, you mean demon!"

"Calm down, both of you. You're both acting like a child."

Eve pushed out her lips, and scowled.

"I am a child. He's not."  
"But you're the Anti Christ, girl. I thought the Anti Christ was supposed to be sophisticated and wise. Why did we end up with a one that loved an alien with two lungs?"  
"It's two hearts, idiot."

Eve growled, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"_You're_ an idiot. And now _I_ feel childish. It's all your fault."

Aziraphale sighed.

"Both of you-"

"Well I think you're just jealous." Eve interrupted him, and Crowley frowned.  
"For what?"

"Because I'm sitting on the angel's lap and you're not."

Aziraphale blushed and Crowley tried hard to look insulted.

"No I'm not. I don't _have_ to sit on the angel's lap. I will always know him better than you, by 6000 years."

"But still _I'm_ the one who's currently sitting on his lap."  
"I can always sit on it when we're home."

Eve raised an eyebrow and Crowley realized what he'd just said and Aziraphale sighed, louder this time.  
"Can you two please stop taking about my lap like I'm not here?"

"No." They chorused and he blushed, again.

"Let's just watch the show." He mumbled, and Eve nodded like she was going easy on him.

"M'kay."

The next episode started, and Crowley knew his side of the room was darker, literally, because he was working hard to cover his reddened face. One day he was going to get back at the child, he _was_, but that day was not today. And probably wouldn't be for the next 4 years, until the world ended.


	4. Chapter 3 : A Cliffhanger

_Sometime around that time when the AntiChirist fell from a monkeybar and broke her arm and her mum saw her first so her tutors couldn't accomplish a miracle. She was fine with it though.  
Yeah, it was about then._

"So. Let's have an Q&A time."

Crowley threw a pillow at her, that she didn't even try to dodge. It hit her face, and fell.

"Ow."

"Don't do that, Crowley." Aziraphale scolded.

"What's the purpose of asking questions? You already know everything about everything you want to know." The demon complained, ignoring the disapproving look deliberately.

"It's just something to pass the time. I read it off a magazine." She waved her right hand, the side that wasn't broken, vaguely at the bookcases. "It said it was _quote unquote _'a peaceful and calming way to get to know each other mentally'."

"Sounds American. _And_ boring."

"Oi, you two are the ones who wanted to come over on a Sunday. Take what you're given. It's not like I can find an activity that can please two occult-"

Unfortunately, that was the moment Deidre Young decided to peek in the living room.

"Ask your-Cult?" Deidre frowned, stopping in mid sentence. Even _she_ knew something was weird when her 7 year old daughter muttered the word cult. "Eve, what are you talking about?"

"Um. N-n-nothing." Eve stammered, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"We were talking about nothing. Forget about it." He added a bit of temptation-yes, it also worked wonders when mind washing humans-in his voice, wondering why the Anti Christ was so bad at lying. She _was_ supposed to be the literal Father of lies. Well, _mother_ of lies.

Deidre's expression clouded, then brightened again as she tilted her head. "Would you like some tea?" She asked, as if nothing happened, and Aziraphale smiled nervously.

"Yes, please. Crow-Anthony would, too."

Deidre smiled back, returning to the kitchen. Something about that man always made her feel..._content_. _Relaxed_. Like he gave off good vibes. She hummed a melody of a forgotten song as she set out on finding her tea pot.

Back in the living room, Eve scowled.

"I told you not to dazzle my mum."  
"_Dazzle_? I didn't _dazzle_ anyone." Crowley answered, sliding down on his seat and she glared at him.

"That's what dazzling is. Making somebody forget something. Haven't you seen Men In Black?"

Aziraphale coughed. "Is this another pop culture reference? Eve, how do-"  
"-you even find the _time_ to watch all those things?"

Crowley finished and Eve raised her eyebrows. "Are you two finishing each other's sentences now? That's so darn _cute_."

Aziraphale gave her a embarrassed look and she smiled smugly.

Crowley clenched his jaw, annoyed that the girl won the upper hand of the situation, and ran a hand through his hair.

"What questions." He said stiffly, and she blinked.  
"Huh? Oh. I haven't thought of them yet." She thought about remarking on him being horrible at changing the subject, but thought better of it, because the demon _was_ actually quite scary when he wanted to be.

"I have a question." They turned to Aziraphale, who was raising a hand. "Why do you love watching telly so much?"

She recoiled.

"Duh. Because it rots my brain and I don't have to think about anything else. The people inside the shows do the work, and all I have to do is just sit there and be lazy."

The angel hesitated.

"That...honestly, that sounds like sloth."

She frowned.

"What's that word?"  
"It's just a posh way of saying you're a lazy brat." Crowley answered, and Eve nodded, understanding.  
"That's me."

"It shouldn't be, though. You should be more outgoing! You should work-"  
"Relax angel, she's not gonna do some push-ups cause you tell her to."

"I'm not telling her to do _push-ups_, I was suggesting she should get out more. And make some friends."

"I _have_ friends. You two."

He gave her a look.

"I mean, friends that are your _age_. And is _human_."

Eve hesitated.

"Pepper. And my lot."  
"Then spend more time with them!"

She winced.

"This will _also_ make me sound like a total brat, but they're too..._slow_. Honestly, I can't continue a conversation with them unless I'm holding some snacks and colorful papers. It's like training puppies. Did I ever say I wanted to get a dog?"

"Yes. You did. And laughed because you were going to get one at the End of the World."

She glared at the demon.  
"I don't want a_ hell hound_, I want a puppy. A proper puppy I can hold in my arms and that squirms and does all the puppy stuff. She'll be so cute."

"Yea but when the Armageddon arrives-"

"Can we stop talking about the the Apocalypse? Its really a downer, you know. Let's talk about something else. Something funner."

She cut off, then lit up. "Ooh. Who's your favorite Doctor?"

"Can we not talk about that despicable show?"

"Shut up, demon. I like the 11th. He's cute."  
Aziraphale tilted his head thoughtfully. "I like the 11th too. He's certainly very dorky."

"Ugh, I can't _believe_ we moved all the way down to Tadfield to watch some telly. Isn't our job a bit more important than _this_?"

"Watching telly is your job, now that you decided to move here and be my-" She finger quoted, "-_Private tutors_. So please contribute your thoughts to our discussion, Crowley."

"The 10th." He grumbled quietly, and she smirked.

"You only like him cos you look a bit like him."

"_He_ looks like _me_." Crowley corrected, and felt stupid.

Eve suddenly sat up, a devilish look glinting in her eyes. Moments like this, it was _so_ clear that the girl was a spawn of Satan.

"Do you know what would make you a bit more like him?" She asked casually, although her body language was _intense_, and his brain told him not to answer. But the temptation was too strong, and he had always had no restraint over his mouth; he gave in.

"What?"  
"You should cut your hair."

She smiled wickedly and he flinched. He shook his head.  
"You are not laying a hand on my hair."

"C'mon, _everybody_ thinks it's better short. Aziraphale? Don't you think so?"  
"Oh no, you're not dragging _me_ into this." Aziraphale held up his hands, deliberately looking the other direction and she scowled.

"It's a yes or no question, Zira."  
"Umm..."

She sighed. "I wasn't going to bring this up, but remember that time we talked about his hair? Well _I_ remember, and if you don't want to hear a contorted version of what you said from me, you better say it. Right now."

"Threatening isn't really becoming of you," The angel grumbled, blushing, and Crowley frowned. "You two talked about my hair?"

"Yes, we had a lengthy conversation about it. I said..." Aziraphale bit his lip. "I said I liked it a _bit_ better when it was short. A _tinsy_ bit, I mind you. I'm not saying-"  
"You see?" Eve said proudly, and Crowley muttered something darkly underneath his breath. It sounded a lot like _Bloody angels and bloody Anti Christs and their bloody lack of _style.

"You can grow it back if you don't like it, seriously. I just want to see what its like!"

"It's none of your business." He answered curtly, but some part of him was in shock with the angel. He liked it a bit better when It was short? Crowley knew the angel was speaking stupidly politely, so that could translate to _I hate it so much _in angel-speak.

Thinking of all the things the angel could _have_ meant, he almost was vulnerable to the Anti Christ's sudden attack.

"What are you _doing_!" He jumped out of his seat when he turned to find her approaching with her hand out. Her other hand was still very broken, he was relieved to see.

"I'll cut it for you." Her lips twitched, and he glared.

"I said, you're not laying a hand on my-"  
"Oh shut up." She lunged forward and he picked up a pillow and Aziraphale snapped his fingers, freezing them both.

Then. _Then_ everything happened, a fluid influx of events Crowley only processed a bit of.

Because the image of his angel kneeling with his hands stained with the blood of the Anti Christ, was definitely not what you would call therapeutic.

* * *

If you think I need a beta, and you are willing to be one, please PM me.

Leave reviews if you wanna. Don't if you're not feeling like it. No pressure.

Thx for all, people :)


	5. Chapter 4 : She's hurt

There was a flash of blinding red light that left a shimmering across his vision, and Eve fell to the floor, biting her tongue as something sharp and metallic entered her body.

She gasped aloud, but was painstakenly careful not to make a loud noise that would make her parents come running. But the fact that she wasn't making any noises didn't mean it hurt any less. It still hurt. A bloody lot.

She understood in a split second what had happened to her. She had summoned a scissor from thin air, and when she fell and collided with the floor, it had plunged into her body_. Useless powers. Stupid her._

Eve was still on the ground, shaking, and Crowley, suspended in time with a pillow in his hand, tried to figure out why the girl wasn't standing up. Well, he was also wondering how the girl had slipped past the angel's magic, when he saw the blotch of red staining the girl's tee.

And time came rushing back to him.

"Oh. _Oh_." Aziraphale swallowed as he kneeled next to the girl, his hand trembling.

He tried to nudge Eve over to take in the damage, but his hands, despite their ridiculous trembling, refused to work. He was frozen.

Eve let out a rattling breath, trying not to move. Every movement hurt like hell, and she wasn't trying to be funny this time.

Tears blurred her eyes, and the only reason she was holding back was Aziraphale. He would probably start crying too, she thought, then clenched her jaw.

It took another moment for Crowley to regain his wits. And unfortunately, Blood and pain were _his_ kind of things, so he knew he had to take control. Curse the sterotypes, but in this case, they were blithely correct.

"Get a grip, angel," He snarled, shoving Aziraphale out of his way, and with a single thought, Eve was on the couch.

The angel looked at him with a relieved expression, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

_Don't know how you would live without me_, He almost said, but knew this wasn't the moment.

Crowley turned his face to Eve's body, and winced.

There was a scissor. In her shoulder.

"But-but she wasn't holding a scissor." The angel stuttered, and Eve tried to speak, and tasted blood on her tongue. She'd bitten it. She hated when that happened.

"I-I thought about a scissor, and I was holding one. It happens sometimes."

She mumbled, trying to sit up, but Crowley pushed her forehead back down.

"Why didn't you tell us about- Oh, this really isn't the time for this. Angel, c'mon. Work your miracle."

Aziraphale looked nervously at Crowley, who gave him a hopefully reassuring nod, and pushed his hand down on her right shoulder. Eve stiffened, biting the inside of her cheek because it _hurt_. But the angel was going to make it bett-

Crowley sensed the magic in the air, and when the white bleached wave of pure heaven touched her skin, Eve _screamed_.

Everything in the room blew back.

Furnitures collided with walls, heavy wood splintering and breaking apart. The rush of power almost knocked the demon back, and he stumbled, alarmed of how much the girl had hidden behind her innocent body. The house itself _shook_, and there was a yell from outside that he really couldn't care about now.

Aziraphale staggered back, eyes darting between his own hands and Eve's worsened bleeding. She seemed to have passed out from the pain, her face pale and glistening with sweat.

This wasn't the reaction that she should have. She should have-

Crowley cursed, realisation dawning over him.

"Wha-What's-"  
"Get away from her," Crowley ordered, taking the angel's hand and leading them a step away. "And stop your magic."

"I've stopped it, of course." Aziraphale snapped back, his heart pounding in his chest. "What's just happened?"

Crowley put his hands on the angel's shoulders, peering into his pale blue eyes that kept being drawn to Eve's limp form. The demon gently shook him, keeping the blonde's eyes trained on him.

"Remember when we talked about what would happen if you tried to inhabit my body?"  
"How's that relevant to-. Oh."

"Yes. _Boom_."

Crowley squeezed the angel's shoulders, staring into his pale eyes.

"She's the daughter of _Satan_, no matter how much she looks human. And-"  
"-And miracles would backfire on her, because of her nature,"

Aziraphale said, his heart sinking as his mind applied the theory in this situation.

Crowley nodded, hating himself for what he was going to say next. Because saying it out loud, made it feel much more real.

"By attempting to heal her with magic from heaven, we...we might just have killed her a little."

Aziraphale faintly sagged, his posture breaking. Crowley clenched his fist, parting his lips again.

"What do we-" He stiffened. "Her parents are coming."

They moved in unison.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and the furniture rearranged itself in a split second, the damage all undone. He did something about the cracked wallpapers and the broken vase of flowers, that he himself had presented to Mrs. Young that morning.

Crowley went to heave Eve up, ignoring her groans of pain. He glanced at the carpet and the couch splattered with inky blood, and it erased itself, returning to their usual shades of grey and green.

They exchanged a look, and when the pattering of urgent footsteps came across the living room, it was empty.


	6. Chapter 5 : A Dream

They laid Eve down on Aziraphale's bed.

Crowley had, with a demonic miracle, disintegrated the scissor, and the angel was pushing down on her wound with a towel. It was bloody ironic, that the angel was unable to heal someone without killing her. You would think _demons_ were more about that stuff.

He glanced at the said demon, who was pacing furiously around the bed.

"We're a demon and an angel, and we can't heal one fucking kid? What's wrong with-"  
"You can heal her." Aziraphale cut off. "You _should_ heal her."

Crowley looked at him, his shades hiding his eyes.

"I'm a demon, Angel. When _Down Stairs_ find out-"  
"They won't. Or what are we going to do? Just stand here and let her-"

Eve shifted, parting her eyes open. She blinked, grimacing. "Hey." She muttered. Eve looked down at her bloodied t-shirt and arm cast and held off a curse.

The angel lifted the pressure off her shoulder, edging closer to her.

"Are you okay?" He asked urgently, and she coughed a small laughter.

"I have good news and bad news," She murmured, and Crowley scowled.  
"This is not a joke, gi-"  
"The good news is, it doesn't hurt anymore." She paused for dramatic effect. "The bad news is, I-I can't feel my fingers."

Aziraphale went pale.

"I-I was trying to repair her nerve cells. That must have..."  
"Just _great_. Now we can't take her to a human hospital. We have _no_ guarantee if they'll be able to fix her."

Eve was still trying to move her fingers. It was just.._numb_. Like that time she went to the dentist and had to take anesthesia. She had felt seriously uncomfortable; she kept drooling, so she had just gotten rid of it after the surgery. Mind her, she _could_ have just gotten rid of the cavity, but she wanted to have the normal experiences of a kid. And had instantly regretted it afterwards.

"I can't move my arm." She said out loud, perturbed. "I can't. Why can't I?"  
"Because my magic intervened with yours, we think that...I-I worsened your state. I'm so sorry."

Eve clenched her left fist, irritated, but she didn't blame him. It wasn't anyone's fault.

She pursed her lips, thinking hard.

"So we can't heal me?"

"...Crowley can. But-"

"-But if I do this, Down Stairs will find out. About us."

"We don't know if they _will_ find out, dear boy. They-"  
"I don't know what exactly they are capable of, but I know, that if they _do_ find out, we will pay a price. Everything about the three of us is betrayal for both heaven and hell. We can't just unveil ourselves, that's suicide!"

The angel's mouth gaped open.

"But then, how do we heal her?"

"He doesn't want to." Eve said, slowly, and Crowley scowled.

"I just think it's a bad idea." He didn't deny it, Eve noted.

"But you will, won't you? Because I'm asking you to?"

Aziraphale looked up at him, his blue eyes gradating to that sad hue and Crowley let out an inner groan.

Out of _all_ the humans and demons and angels he could have fallen for-although he hoped not _literally_\- he had to fall for the tartan-loving Anti Christ-loving idiot.

He knew, now, that he would have to fix her. For the girl. And mostly for Aziraphale.

"Agh...When demons come to kill us all, it'll all be your fault, angel." He grumbled and Aziraphale beamed, his face changing ridiculously quickly.

"I _knew_ there was good in-"

Crowley leaned forward and kissed the angel on his cheek, and Aziraphale recoiled, eyes widening.

Crowley didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was because the angel was so _good_, that he felt obliged to. Maybe it was just because of the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Maybe he needed that one kiss to clarify something. Or maybe he just wanted Aziraphale to shut up.

Aziraphale stuttered. "Wha-why?"

But nothing was clear. He was still in that mucky fucked-up stage where he knew bloody _nothing_.

"It's nothing."

"Don't _tell_ me it's nothing." Aziraphale answered sharply, and Crowley bit the inside of his cheek.

He regretted it. He regretted-

"Uh, sorry to interrupt this significant moment between you two, but I still have a gaping _hole_ in my shoulder, _c'mon_."

Eve growled, and Aziraphale broke his stance, flustered.

"I'm sor-"  
"Please just heal me." She muttered, and Crowley knew although she was hiding it, she was put off, hurt.

Because Eve never used _please_. She manipulated, bickered, and reprimanded, but she never _pleaded_. She would scoff at his thoughts but would have to admit it in the end. And then _he_ would have to admit he found her amusing and annoying and endearing, all at the same time.

Which was why Crowley just stepped to her side without a word, put his hand on her stiff shoulder, and _focused_.

The key to miracling-even demonic ones- was that he had to really _believe_ it. He had to believe that her skin was stitching back together, that the dead cells were coming back to life, that all the blood loss was reversing itself, and finally, that _nothing_ had happened to her shoulder.

It worked.

Eve moaned as her skin tingled unpleasantly, feeling needles poke all the way from her collarbone to her forearm.

The numbing was slowly fading away, and when she could _finally_ feel Crowley's smooth palm pressuring down on her, the wound was gone.

She and Crowley and Aziraphale sagged, the tension in the room releasing immidiatetly. Eve breathed out a sigh, coughed, and shook her head.

"I...I _never_ want to do that again."

"Yes, it _was_ needlessly dramatic." Aziraphale plopped down on the bed after a moment, rubbing his forehead.

Eve laid there on the bed, feeling exhausted and drowsy. She glanced at Crowley, and snorted, as a thought came to her. She winced, as her arm throbbed, but then couldn't help but start giggling.

"What now, girl." Crowley droned, and she curled up with arms around her belly, as bouts of laughter racked her body.

"I-I-" Her giggles were getting ridiculous and Crowley rolled his eyes. "I'm, I'm never, never trying to cut your hair again." She said, hiccuped, then broke into another spurt of giggles.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley and Crowley looked back at him and Aziraphale's lips twitched, and Crowley _had_ to roll his eyes again. The angel laughed, and Eve looked endearingly at them through blurry eyes. They were so in love, it was just plain annoying they didn't notice it.

But Eve was sure that they _would_ come about it someday, or she was going to have to drag them both across the whole bloody ocean to Las Vegas, and see that they _do_ get married.

* * *

_Her nightmares were fairly simple, she knew. But it wasn't the context of the nightmare that scared her. __It was the _possibility_ that this could happen in reality, that grasped her stomach and refused to let go.  
_

_She was standing in a field of grass and she knew where she was, before she even took in a breath.  
_

_Lower Tadfield. Mr. Tyler's apple trees.  
_

_But _everything_ was different.  
_

_The grass was all dead.  
_

_The stench of rotten staggered her, as the yellowness of the once-green plants filled her vision.__It drowned her, left her wondering was it either the grass, or her eyes, that had become yellow.  
_

_Then she looked up, and all coherent thoughts were pulled from her.  
_

_The sky was red.  
_

_It wasn't the bright color of tomatoes, it wasn't the deep color of blood, it wasn't the mechanical color of car lights, it was something...much _less_.  
_

_It was the color of blueness after it had all been washed away with tears, and filled in with rage against everything that was loved.  
_

_Blue was a color that did not exist anymore, she realized, and she despaired.  
_

_She forced herself to drag her gaze away from the sky, and after an infinite moment when she succeeded, she whirled around, searching for people, or any other living things.  
_

_There was no sign of any.  
_

_Not even the cry of the grasshoppers that had always lived in the shadows of the grass. But soon enough she realized, they probably couldn't live with dead grass.  
_

_S__he wanted to run back to her home, but knew, deep inside her, that it was gone. Every difference the humans had made, every invention, every discovery, were destroyed. Along with the humans themselves.  
_

_Her family. Her friends. Crowley. Aziraphale.  
_

_Were they gone?  
_

_"Aziraphale!" She called out, desperate to see some movement in this stone-still world.  
_

_She staggered forward. "Mum! Crowley! Where-"  
_

_There was a flash of light, and she tripped over her own feet and hit the ground.  
_

_Her knees were scraped and she blinked and there was Crowley in front of her, face bloodied and kneeling with a figure lying in his lap.  
_

_A figure wearing that unmistakable white coat.  
_

_Aziraphale.  
_

_Was he-no. He couldn't be.  
_

_"Crowley?" She muttered softly, and the demon raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. There was so much sadness in his face, sadness that made her feel so small. So unknowing. So _young_.  
_

_He didn't seem like he was surprised to see her. He seemed like he had expected to see her.  
_

_"Wha-what happened?" She asked, and the demon barked a laugh. She winced at the harsh sound, but it was better than the absolute silence of the field.  
_

Anything_ was better than silence, that weighed her down with chains.  
_

_"_You_ happened."  
_

_He said, no emotions in his voice, and she stumbled back.  
_

_"Wha-"  
"Don't tell me you don't remember. You remember clearly, what you did."  
_

_And she did.  
_

_She shook, as days of memories flashed by in a second.  
_

_War. Famine. Pollution.  
_

_All leading to death. Death, the one and only conclusion to all this.  
_

_Death that grasped the angel in his palm even now.  
_

_She looked down at the angel, lips trembling.  
_

_"Is he-" She reached out a hand that Crowley pushed away immediately.  
_

_"Don't touch him. Don't-Don't..."  
_

_He was shaking too, she noticed dozily, and wanted to cry. She knew what had happened.  
She knew that _she_ had happened.  
_

_"You. You did this. You did this and he's dead and why am _I_, still alive?"  
_

_His voice broke and she felt every syllable strike her, strike at her bones and tissues and blood and organs and suddenly she couldn't breath. She was suffocating, suffocating with the breathes that were unbreathed, words that were unsaid, and seconds that did not pass. Seconds that did not pass for the dead.  
_

_Everything was gone for the dead that she had killed.  
_

_She took a step back, clutching at her throat.  
_

_"It hurts, doesn't it?"  
_

_He said and she wanted him to stop talking. Stop this...pain. Stop this dream.  
_

_"I begged you. I begged you to stop. But you didn't."  
_

_I wasn't myself, she wanted to plead but knew it was helpless. She _had_ been herself. She had been the Anti Christ. As she had always been.  
_

_She lurched backwards, trying to get away from his words that was tearing her open.  
_

_"I cared for you. That's the most sickening part. I-_we_. _We_ cared for you. And look what's happened. He's, DEAD!"  
_

_The demon screamed, and she started running, but it was no use. His words echoed around her.  
_

_"We thought we had a chance. A chance to make you normal. A normal kid, who wouldn't destroy the world."  
_

_I'm normal. She wanted to think, but even herself didn't let her think that.  
_

_"And we were wrong. And I'm paying the price for it, ain't I? I lost him, I lost everything. You succeeded, girl. You truly are the Anti Christ."  
_

_She looked back, and saw Crowley slowly standing. He caressed the angel's hand, and let him go.  
_

_He looked up at her, and their gazes met.  
_

_Her steps faltered.  
_

_"Run. Run, girl."  
_

_He ground out, and she felt her feet tap the earth quicker, not daring to break their eye contact.  
_

_He parted his lips, seeming to prepare one final blow.  
She didn't-she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to run. She didn't want to be the Anti Christ. She wanted to run back to the demon, fall on her knees, and let him kill her. Or _make_ him kill her.  
_

_"...Just know, that you'll fall." She had to whip her head back, to feel her feet hit nothing but air. "As we did."  
_

_She closed her eyes as her body plummeted, tumbling down to hell knows where, her hair whipping in her face and legs dangling awkwardly and she didn't want to go splat but she didn't want to open her eyes again and-  
_

Eve woke.

She walked to the kitchen for a glass of water, and came back to bed, and tried hard to sleep.

It was a long night.

* * *

Hey guys, sorry for the erratic uploads, but exams just passed and I think I can manage to be more stable in the future. Tell me what you think in the reviews, and please, Chloe No. 1, don't read my fanfic. (It's you, the nice one)


	7. Chapter 6 : A Car Crash

_Sometime around that time when the Anti Christ went crazy reckless, which is kind of like always.  
_  
It was a bright day, a perfect day to commit something out of bounds. She usually didn't have any bounds to break, but today, _oh_. She was going to break so many of Crowley's rules, that she might not be able to grow up, _ever_.

The plan consisted of this. 1. Steal an angel. 2. Steal a Bentley. 3. Drive the said Bentley with the said angel.

She didn't know _why_ she came up with this plan and _how_ on _Earth_ she came up with this plan, but it was going to be awesome. Definitely more awesome than reading Machiavelli.

She was in the best of moods that morning when she welcomed Aziraphale inside, which caused him to be anxious and fidgety unlike usual. Something always happened, when she was in a good mood. And something, _almost_ as always, happened when she was in one of her bad moods.

By now, they all pretty clearly knew she was bipolar. They just instead chose not to state the obvious.  
She was getting treated for it, with mortal treatments, but she usually didn't take the meds that the doctor prescribed, making her condition harder to improve.

_It slows me down_, she had described it, arms hugged around the toilet, after a particularly awful panic attack. _I cant...think when its inside me.  
_

She was ill in the mind, but it was so hard to tell if she was, when she just seemed like a normal child. Because she _excelled_ at seeming like a normal child. She had mastered the act since she had been born.

But sometimes, in front of the angel, she let that act slide, and just showed how messed up she was. Because she knew she could depend on him, depend on him to make her think hopefully and smile and feel better. She was relying on him much more than she should, and Aziraphale was coming to be more attached to her than he should.

Which was why Aziraphale often had trouble leaving the girl at night. He always worried about what she'll do and what she'll think.

"Uh, nice morning," Aziraphale glanced at the clock, and back at Eve. It was 9. Way too early for her to be this hyper.

She grinned like an idiot, and plopped down on the armchair's arm part.

"Great morning." She drawled and he raised his eyebrows warily.

"Did you get some sleep?"

She shook her head up and down and tilted it, which was a body language he did not understand.

"Well?"

"Three hours. But I'm fine. I'm not sleepy."  
"Eve,-"

His voice took on that tone and she slid down into the sit properly, groaning as she did so.

"Oh for God's sake, I'm fine. I'll sleep when I want to."

"Which is never, it seems like." He grumbled and she giggled.

"Can I ask you a favor?" She asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes and Aziraphale immediately stiffened. It went unnoticed by Eve, who was swinging her legs distractedly.

"Can you bring Crowley's Bentley here?"

He relaxed somewhat. He had been unconsciously expecting some dramatic favor, like- It was probably best left unsaid.

"I can't drive," He answered, and she snorted.

"You're an angel, Zira. You can move a car without driving it."  
"Why?"  
"Uh, duh, because you have been gifted powers from-"  
"No, why do you need Crowley's car?"

Eve wiggled her eyebrows.

"Crowley wants me to see if he left something in his car. It's important, he said."

"But Crowley's in the flat-"  
"He's not. He popped down in London for a quick...temptation."

He smacked his lips distastefully.

"He told me he wouldn't. What a _demon_."

She jumped out of her seat, startling Aziraphale and almost knocking down a vase next to her seat.

"He _is_ a demon. So you'll do it?"

"...Yes. if Crowley needs something, I'll send it to him."

"Uh, no. He told me specifically that I had to personally see to it."

Aziraphale scrunched up his forehead.

That sounded strange, but Crowley and Eve often shared strange hobbies. Some that were sometimes borderlined on illegal. He shuddered, thinking of that time when Crowley wanted to jump a visit to the White House, for whatever reason. It had taken persuasion and a few threats from Aziraphale to put an end to that madness.

"...Okay, but you can't do anything dangerous or risky, Eve. get it?"

"You sound like a mum, angel."

"Promise?"

She wrinkled her eyes, hiding her crossed fingers behind her back.

"Yup, mum."

* * *

10 minutes later, Eve was staring inside the Bentley's tinted window.

"How do you get inside?" She wondered, and remembered she was the Anti Christ. Oh.

The lock shifted open, and she opened the door, slid in to the driver's seat.

"Come on, Aziraphale. Don't just stand there."  
"I thought it was something you wanted to do privately." He pointed out, and she hesitated.

"Crowley doesn't need any more privacy. We need to dig out his private life and throw it in the bin."  
"What?"  
"Just sit, angel." She turned her gaze to the dashboard, and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh look. It's a Jason Mraz album. Why does Crowley have _I'm yours_?"

"What?"

He slid in to the shotgun, and she grinned.

"See?" Eve pointed out, and he squinted his eyes at the album jacket.

"That doesn't look like it would be his style."  
"It doesn't." She nodded, and the door closed on both sides. Aziraphale whirled his head around, bewildered.

"What'd-"  
"Let's listen to the song."

Eve pushed in the tape in before he even had time to react, and the catchy music began to play.

It was Mraz singing.

"Huh. Crowley must have gotten it pretty recently."

"Eve, _open_, the door."

"Oh. I remember, he said he got it from a lady. A _lady friend_."  
"_What_? Oh, just open the door."

"...Fine." The door opened again on his side, and he turned to slip out, then froze.

"You're not going to try to drive the car, are you?'

"...Maybe. It'll be fun."

"You're going to get killed."

She looked offended.

"I'm not that bad at driving stuff. I play the car game pretty-'  
"I mean, Crowley's going to kill you."

He said slowly, and she grinned like a lunatic.

"Not if you don't tell him."

"You know I can't-"  
"Conversation, boring. Driving, hopefully better. Get out if you want, I'm not stopping you."

"But where are you _going_?"

She gave him a look that said _don't be such an angel. _

Aziraphale looked back with a face that said _don't be such a suicidal idiot._

They reached an impasse, and she just snapped her fingers, the car starting. She tilted her head.

"How do you go forward?"  
"You press the...thingy, I think. At your feet. But do you really need to drive, Eve? There's other hobbies-"

She pressed one of the paddles at her feet and the sound of the engine vrooming almost deafened her.

"Gear! Shift the gear, I think!"

"Oh." She looked down at the shaft she had not noticed until now, and scowled at it. She moved her hand and settled the stick next to the R. _R for ride,_ she hoped.

This time, she pushed down on the excel with more confidence, and immediately regretted it.

The car moved. It moved backwards.

"Oh shoot," Eve managed to say, before something hit the car, well, the car hit something, and made a horrible sound like metal dying loudly.

_R for reverse_, she realized, a split second after she thought _oh, there goes the mailbox_.

"Ahh!" Aziraphale hollered and her body rocked and she pressed the brake and the tires squealed then something blocked her and the angel from flying forward and dying. _Discorporating_, in his case.

She blinked. The car stopped, abruptly. Everything went quiet, then a hand pulled open the door on her side and dragged her out roughly.

"You are going to fucking _die_." Crowley snarled, and she grinned weakly as her body was dumped on the ground.

Aziraphale staggered near her, hands on his knees.

"Thank you, Crowley," He coughed, and the demon spun to him, looking outraged.

"I'm also going to kill you, angel. What were you _thinking_! You could have both died! And my car is _wrecked_!"

"Are you more upset about your _car_ than our safety?" Aziraphale asked, disdained, and Crowley nodded furiously.  
"Yes, _of course_!"

"Sorry." Eve muttered, then started laughing, not bothering to stand up.

"Shut. Up. I am going to make you-"  
"Do chores? Clean my room? Wash your car?"

Eve smirked, and Crowley clenched his jaw and pointed a finger down at her.

"You-_You're_ not gonna watch TV for a week. And you," He turned to Aziraphale, "_You're_ not going to read books for a week, _too_."

"..._WHAT_?"

"...Fine, a day."

* * *

A special thanks to Chloe, who can't pronounce vagina. Thanks for the briefly mentioned mailbox, darling. Sorry for being a dieke. :)


	8. Chapter 7 : The Voices

_A month before the AntiChrist's 9th birthday.  
_  
"Oh my gawd."

Aziraphale frowned thoughtfully, which was the way the angel did _everything_, she thought, then grinned.

"His name shouldn't be used so casually, Eve."

"It's fine, Zira. I just realized we only had one season to go."

Crowley, who had been dozing off next to her, snapped his head up.

"Really? _Finally_!"

"It's not finally, it's is it there already? You're _horwable_." She tried to pronounce that again, but it was difficult with the popcorn in her mouth. Crowley made a face at her.

"Horrible is a commonly used word to describe a demon, human filth. I am horrible and proud."

Eve laughed, glad that her parents were on vacation. She would never have gotten to have this conversation if they weren't.

"Okay, demon filth. But I have to say, I saw you enjoy the ones with the weeping angels."

"I hated that one," Aziraphale remarked. "We don't _weep_. We certainly don't _kill_ people."

"Yeah, I loved that one." Crowley admitted, a smirk on his face. "For once, it's the angels that are evil. Not demons. Not humans. Angels."

"You're both so incredibly biased." Eve muttered, then brightened. "It was really fun, but it was really scary too, you know. I had nightmares about it, though it did help the voices go away."

Aziraphale shook his head. "I _told_ you not to watch them if they're too scary. Nightmares are not good for your-"  
"What?"

Crowley sat up, suddenly looking way more alert, and Aziraphale recoiled.

"What do you mean, _what_?"

"What did you just say?"

"I said nightmares are bad for your health, _obviously_, and-"  
"Not you, angel. Eve. What did you just say?"

"I think that's like the first time you've called me by my name." Eve said in wonder, and Crowley growled.

"I'm serious. Just tell me."

"I said that I had nightmares about it, because it was too scary. Why are you-"  
"After that."

"The nightmares helped the voices go away a little. You're freaking me out, Crowley. What is it?"

But Crowley wasn't looking at her anymore, he had shifted his focus on Aziraphale who had a look of sudden understanding dawn over him.

"Oh. _Oh_..."

"What is it?" She repeated, feeling so small again. She hated it when they did this. When they knew something, she _didn't_. It made her want to splay open their heads and read their thoughts like a book.

"Will you please repeat that for us, Eve?"

Aziraphale asked, seemingly calm but she could tell that he was troubled on the inside, she _always_ could tell, and she nodded.

"The nightmares made the voices go away a bit. Why?" She frowned. "Don't you have voices too? Everyone has them."

Crowley narrowed his eyes and Eve paused.

"They don't?" She asked softly, and her face fell. "It's an _Anti_ _Christ_ thing, isn't it."

When both the demon and angel didn't move to contradict her, she facepalmed and toppled over the side of the couch, Aziraphale barely managing to keep her upright.

"Oh no no no no no-" She mumbled into her hands, rocking her body side to side.  
"Eve, it's fine. Nothing's wrong-"  
"Everything's wrong!" She yelled, glaring at the carpet. "I tried so _much_ not to end the world. I didn't let myself have a stray _thought_, a stray _word_. But now I realize, I've done _everything_ wrong, I haven't controlled the voices I have heard every bloody night since I could remember, so now it's all messed up, and it's all over. I'm going to destroy the world, so you two better run, get outta here and use your remaining lives for something useful like finally getting married or something. I'll just stay here and become the psychopath of the century."

She went limp on the couch, where the angel heaved her above.

"She's freaking out," Aziraphale stage whispered, and "I can hear you." said Eve from beneath her hair, a pillow, and her arms.

"What do the voices say?" Crowley asked, trying to sound indifferent, and failing.

"Shit."

"Eve!" The angel scolded and she rolled her eyes. Crowley didn't have to see her face to know that.

"They say shit. It's stupid. Sometimes they talk to me, but most of the times they whisper incoherent sentences. Like-Oh."

"Like what?" Crowley demanded, and Eve sat back up, face pale.

"Oh shi-shoot. They say _'Exterminate'_. And _'Destroy it all._' I thought they loved Doctor Who too, and that was just it. I didn't pay them any attention."

Her expression looked wild with shock, and Crowley wanted to face-palm, too. They had known the girl for more than an year, and hadn't found this out? What use were they, as_ tutors-on-not-destroying-the-world_?

"Eve, calm down."Aziraphale said, his eyes looking anything but calm as he searched for his words desperately. "Having voices doesn't necessarily mean that you destroy the world, Eve. They're just voices. Nothing more."

"Voices that influences her every thought. Yea, they're nothing more than that." Crowley said, bitterly sarcastic, and Aziraphale threw him a look.

"We can stop them, Crowley."

"How? We pop down to hell and ask them politely to stop the demons speaking in the Anti Christ's brain, because she doesn't want to end the world, and we don't too, because we've been a bad angel and a demon?"

Aziraphale didn't respond to that, and Crowley sighed. "Be real, angel. There were always gonna be influences from hell on her, whether we like it or not. And maybe it was for the best that she didn't _think_ it was from hell."

They sat in quiet for a long moment, Crowley wishing this hadn't happened, and they were just watching the final season like usual. Because although he wouldn't admit it, he had grown some fond of their telly time.

It was strangely calm, sitting in front of the TV together and watching Eve react to it like a proper human. Not an Anti Christ, not a being that's destined to end the world, just a clever 8 years old crushing on a TV character.

And also, watching Aziraphale, who had a habit of wrinkling his nose every time something gory or inappropriate happened in the show.

Crowley knew his emotions were quite unfit for a demon, but he had acknowledged them a long time ago. And now the best he could do is _watch_ where this all leads them to, and _hope_, that God wasn't that much of a bastard.

Eve slipped off the couch, her face dark.

"I'm going to bed. You two can go whenever you want." Her voice held no venom, but her words seemed clear. She wanted to be alone.

Aziraphale started to call after her but she didn't look back, and he looked hopelessly at Crowley.

"What do we do?"


	9. Chapter 8 : A Fight

"We go home." Crowley answered simply, standing up. "C'mon angel. We can't accomplish anything here."

Aziraphale looked troubled, shaking his head faintly. "We can't just leave her alone. We've got to stay."

"Let's just-_just_, go. This has been a rough night."

"She's still a child, Crowley." Aziraphale said softly, and he felt a pang of bitterness.

Yes, she was. She was a child. But she was also the Anti Christ, and that part would always overwhelm her.

"We can't coddle her, angel. One day she is going to destroy the world, or go close to it. She needs to make a stand."

"You need to stop thinking like that."

"Stop thinking like _what_?" Crowley spat out, and Aziraphale stood, facing him.

"You need to stop thinking of the end of the world every time you look at her. I can see it too, you know, how you look at her like she's a bomb ticking down."

"But she is. She's a literal time bomb, and we can't just see her as a child. She's responsible for the fucking _world_."

"Isn't that too much pressure for a 9 year old?" The angel stated softly, barely hiding the pity in his eyes, and Crowley barked a harsh laugh.

"It's too much pressure for _any_ human, angel. But she's _not_ human. She was made for it. It's her destiny. We just have to cross our fingers and hope that she doesn't end everything."

"We can help her. Crossing our fingers can't be the best we can do! We can comfort her, we can teach-"  
"That's what I thought when we moved here, but nothing has changed! The girl-"  
"Eve." Aziraphale interrupted, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Yes, _Eve_, didn't look like a child that would destroy the world a year ago. She doesn't now. What if the end isn't caused by her directly? What if the voices overwhelm her, until she goes mad? What if she destroys the world because someone, or _something_ happens? Nothing _we_ do will prevent things like that."

Aziraphale stared back at the demon's shades, shaking his head.

"We can achieve nothing if we think of endless what-if's, Crowley. We have to do the things that we can, the _best_ we can do to save her from hell and heaven. Prophecies don't always come true, and you know that."

Crowley clenched his fist. "But they do most of the times. We can't just _lie_ to ourselves that the most prophesied moment in time's history will just simply not _happen_."

Aziraphale was speechless, anger leaping up into his throat. He was mad, mad that the demon had the nerve to talk like everything was decided and Eve was going to destroy the world, and that even when he had met her and seen how a jewel she was, that-

"End your sentence, angel." Crowley grumbled and Aziraphale realized he had been talking out loud. He cleared his throat, then set his lips in a line.

"What do you think we should do then, if everything is _useless_?" He asked, not quite expecting an answer, but frowned, when he felt the demon's body sag.

After a quiet moment, Crowley lifted his chin and spoke.

"We could go away." Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyes widen, and rambled on. "We have three whole years left, until who knows what happens, and we could go anywhere, Aziraphale. We could go to the stars. The moon. Anywhere but here, just the two of us."

Even as he spoke the words, he wanted them to come true. He wanted Aziraphale to say yes, to spend eons with him until forever.

But he also _knew_ Aziraphale. And he knew that the angel wasn't a being to shy away from danger, that he would always march into it with his head held high and nose upturned in his way. The way Crowley had come to endear and love.

As expected, Aziraphale shook his head, a sad frown on his face. "You know we can't do that."

Still, it hurt.

"Why? Because you're scared? Scared of whatever will happen to us when they find out about our disobedience?"

"Crowley-"  
"You do realize if you were going to Fall, it would have been centuries ago, when we made the arrangement? You're not going to Fall, because whatever you do will always be blamed on _me_, idiot. I'm the demon, I'm the evil one, everything you do bad is _because_ of me."

"I don't blame you-!"  
"I know you don't. But I know you also doubt yourself what would have happened if I wasn't the demon they assigned to Earth, if I wasn't the demon that tempted you. I would too, if I were still an angel. Well, tough luck, cause I'm _not_!"

Aziraphale took a step back, stunned at the demon's outburst. "I didn't kno-" Crowley laughed bitterly.

"Forget it. Forget everything I just said. _I_ keep forgetting that you're just a bloody angel with a stick up your ass."

He started pacing, head turned the other way. He knew he was going to regret this dearly, but his damned nature egged him on, and he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Come to think of it, maybe I just wanted to leave, because this is boring. It _is_ boring. Playing nanny to a attention seeking brat, and the only person in company is _you_! How _can_ life get any better?"

Aziraphale didn't respond, and Crowley tilted his head, continuing on with his rantings.

"Maybe I _should_ leave. Anywhere would be better than here, wasting the last years on Earth in some bleak town, for a lost cause."

He spat out, whirling to face the angel. He expected some rage, hurt, and a mixture of disgust and shame to show on the angel's face, but what he saw instead, shocked him out of his tantrum.

"Then _leave_."

The angel said slowly, with a blank expression stapled to his face. "No one's making you stay, demon. If you want to leave, go ahead."

Crowley's eyes widened, despite the effort he made to feign his nonchalance, and he tried hard to find his words.

"Maybe I will," He muttered, and even Aziraphale looked a bit pitiful at the most pathetic come-back of the century.

"Get out." and Crowley froze.

He wanted to stutter an apology, but his body moved on its on accord, and he stomped out, his mind still ringing with the angel's voice.

It was the first time the angel had called him demon. It was like he had _accepted_ that. Accepted that Crowley _was_ an demon. Of course he was. He had been a demon for all these time. But why did he feel like the angel had given up on him?

And also, _never_ did he think the angel was capable of saying that. He knew he was overthinking this, but Go-_Satan_, it had sounded like the one thing he was afraid of most.

_Get out of my life._


	10. Chapter 9 : The Humans

Eve was sitting on the window still.

"Up yet?" Aziraphale asked quietly, but she made no move to budge from her rooted spot, staring out into the distance.

"He's right." She murmured, and the angel was momentarily unsure what she was talking about. Then realization struck.

"Oh, Eve. Crowley didn't mean it."

"A lost cause." She laughed softly. "He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?"

He frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She gave him a look. Then arched an eyebrow.

"You don't know?"  
"Know what?"

Her eyes widened, then she shook her head.

"I don't mean to insult you, but you really _are_ daft. He's just mad because you refused his confes-"  
She froze. Then mumbled something like "_You're_ dumb."

Aziraphale scrunched up his forehead.

"What?"

Crowley was in her head.

It was an odd sensation that was nice some times, but not on occasions like _this_ when he was brimming with anger that was all directed at her.

She paused, some part of her believing _she_ was the one who had the right to be angry, thinking of what he had said to Aziraphale downstairs. But she pushed that voice down, since she knew it wouldn't be any help to the situation.

Eve eventually slammed a mental door in his face, rolling her eyes and grudgingly promising she wouldn't tell the angel about his _feelings_, earning another growl from the demon. She hid her own emotions well though, and refused to show how she _did_ feel hurt by what he said.

And then he was gone, and she released the tension in her body.  
Eve then had to meet the questioning gaze of the blonde, and she blinked, trying to make up something to say to him.

"Uh, Crowley was just saying that he was sorry. To you."

"Why would he say that to _you_?"

"Um...Because he's nice?"

"Don't lie, Eve."

She sagged.

"Fine he didn't say _sorry_, more like _I'll kill you if you say something,_ but I know he feels sorry?"

"I'm going to have a word with him," Aziraphale muttered, and she toppled off the window sill, coming to stand before the angel.

"But do you think he's right?"

Aziraphale tilted his head, taking her hand and leading them to her bed.

"It doesn't matter what I think, Eve. You're not going to end the world."

"But why is everybody else so _sure_?"

She mumbled, lying down. Aziraphale tried to drag the bed sheet over her, but she pushed it away to one side.

"We don't have to care about what they are sure of. We just have to know what _we_ are sure of, that you won't bring upon Apocalypse."

"...You're always so nice. And kind."

"Those are the job description of an angel," He nodded, and she snorted. "But thanks, anyway."

She closed her eyes and he started to pat her hand softly, rhythmically.

Sometimes Aziraphale felt like a dad. Well, more of a mum. A second mum, who was always there for you, even when you hit your lowest lows and was not the person you know you should be.

"Love you," She murmured, half asleep and he smiled with an ethereal glow that clearly marked him as an angel. It was probably his eyes, that always looked so _accepting_, that managed to help her say these two words.

"I love you too."  
He replied, and then the fact that he knew he really _did_ hit him with astounding clarity, that shocked even himself as he said the words.

That was one thing about humans. It was impossible not to love them. And that was one thing about Eve. It was impossible not to keep his distance, distance he _knew_ he should keep, away from the daughter of Satan. He bit his lips.

Eve was worth it. Eve was the child he never had, the human he couldn't be and the girl he couldn't help _but_ understand. She was worth a fight with Crowley, a fight with hell, and even a fight with heaven.

He stayed there until she fell asleep, and for a long time after.

* * *

Crowley was stomping home, musing the conversation, fight, over and over.

Every word, every act.

Then he had to admit that he was the one in the wrong, which disgusted him.

He was always in the wrong. He was always in the position of the apologizer. Aziraphale was always the apologee.

Why did he have to encourage these stupid stereotypes about demons being mean and angels being nice? Admittedly, it was true, but-

He sighed, opening the cottage's door. This argument with himself was going off the cliff.

He briefly asked himself whether he would stay or not, but he knew he had no choice but to. He needed, and wanted to be here. The things that he had told the angel, were, everything like the insults he had thrown in Aziraphale's face; they were lies.

Big fat lies, which tumbled from his lips without self-restraint and with self-contempt.

He lapsed on the couch. And sat there until the sound of his thoughts became to loud to ignore. He sighed, and just turned on the telly.

Doctor Who was playing. Again.

Due to a certain Anti Christ, the small town of Tadfield received perfect satellite TV and this one specific channel that only played reruns of certain episodes of Doctor Who and other TV shows that the said Anti Christ wanted to see.

Forcing every thought out of his mind, he watched automatically, not even amused by the fact that he would never have known he would become an Doctor Who expert two years ago.

Life had a way of surprising him, even after six thousand years. It sometimes felt like everything he thought he had known about humanity turned out to be wrong. That was one thing that continued to surprise him.

Humans evolved. They didn't stop, or linger. They moved forward and sometimes they moved _backwards_ but they kept on moving.

Which was one of the main differences between angels, fallen and un-fallen alike, and humans.

Angels did not change. Their whole point of existence was that they were in one state, that wouldn't change. Or else, they would Fall. Like he did.

"Crawly," The Doctor said, and he snapped his head up. His heartbeat rushed. _Not now, not here._ He cursed silently.

"Y-yes?" He managed to say with a strangled voice, and the Doctor turned to stare in his eyes.

"Is the work going well, fellow demon? Not doing anything good are you?" It was Hastur. It had to be.

"Of course not. I'm keeping an eye on the Anti Christ, trying to push her-him into evil paths." He laughed, trying to hide his mistake with the pronoun.

The Doctor raised her eyebrow. "Where are you? It doesn't seem to be your apartment, does it?"

"I'm in the one of the shacks that the American Diplomat lent me. I'm working as the boy's nanny, you see."

The Doctor mused over that, and Crowley cursed inside again. He hoped that Hastur didn't ask anything about the angel or else he would have to-

"Is there any interferences? I heard up there was also aware of the Anti Christ's existence,"

"Oh yes. The angel." He tried to look confident. "Aziraphale is a mighty foe, indeed."

"Should we send reinforcement to smite-"  
"No, no no." He rushed. "I'm fine, Hastur. Any more demons, and Heaven would see something wrong. We don't war, do we?"

The Doctor tilted her head in a mocking way.

"Of course not, at least, not for two years. When Warlock becomes 11, war _will_ finally happen. And we will finally be able to reclaim the glory as the Fallen, as we are."

The look on her face was so wrong, the words she said equally disturbing, and he wanted to throw up.

War. War that Eve so wanted badly not to happen, coming from her idol's lips.

Her expression was questioning, expecting an answer, and he parted his lips.

"Of course." He chocked out. "War. I want war."

The Doctor nodded triumphantly, and smiled malevolently. "Your role is very important, Crawly. Keep an eye on Warlock. Keep an eye on the angel."

Crowley hesitated briefly, his body locked into his spot.

"What happens, if the Anti Christ does not want to end the world?" He shrugged, feigning disinterest. "Of course I'm not saying that that _will_ happen, but just curious. What exactly would happen?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"Then we would have to take counter measures. Perhaps we could kill his family? His friends? Torture would also work, wouldn't it?"

Crowley's blood ran cold. Of course. Hell would have thought of all sorts of cases, circumstances.

"But she-he's the Anti Christ. You can't-"

"You would be the one to carry out these actions. Be proud, Crawly. Most demons would give a head to be the one to torture the Anti Christ. Torturing our master's son, with justification..." She licked her lips. "Sounds delicious."

Crowley froze. Fuck. He paled, getting harder to keep his face straight.

The Doctor looked strangely at him. "Something wrong?"

"No-no. Nothing wrong. Everything's good."

"Well then something _is_ wrong. Everything's not supposed to be good." She cackled. "Make something bad," The Doctor said, and with that the screen started playing properly, the Doctor returning to her normal cheery self. As she started running again, Crowley exhaled slowly.

He didn't _need_ to make something bad.

Things were already so much worse.

* * *

A/N: Writing is sometimes exhausting. I almost thought about stopping, but...well...Chloe was nice. :)

Tell me what direction you want for Eve to take in the plot (srsly I have nothing planned out) in the reviews.

Thanks, as always. ;)


	11. Chapter 10 : A Life

Eve Young had almost reached the age of ten, and she had settled into a routine of life. Truth be told, most lives would never be tutored by angels and demons, but she was the Anti Christ; she _was_ special, as they tend to be.

Every morning she woke up about 10, then ate the breakfast her mum had set up for her before she left for work. Eve had fixed her mum with a job-a slight change of view of her accountant bosses about working moms were enough-because she really didn't want her very nice and very very ordinary tutors to get caught and kicked out.

Before she finished breakfast, Mr. Azira Fell arrived with an armful of books and a headful of knowledge. He smiled at her, greetings and all, and they settled in to the couch, soon devouring the books with fervor.

Eve liked fantasy books, the ones where the main characters jumped aboard their dragons/motorbikes/time machines, and with their dead cool partners, worked hard to save/destroy the world.

She was reading the Skulduggery Pleasant series lately. How the devilish main character loved his Bentley was a bit too similar to a real demon she knew, and she couldn't resist the temptation to shove it in his face every time.

Ah, speaking of the devil, Mr. Anthony J. Crowley arrived, as usually fashionably late and fashionably dressed. Crowley had no greetings for her, and just simply raised his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes, snuggling against the angel even further. She knew how to make the demon jealous.

Usually when Crowley arrived, they would put down their books and start talking-or bickering in a lot of cases-. They talked about various subjects, but these days, she was interested in the _past_.

The world's history had two sides, the side of heaven and the side of hell.

The angel and the demon would represent-such a fancy word for just being incredibly biased-their sides, and explain how in the course of time, the humans got eviler/nicer, becoming smarter/dumber, but in the end, the world needed to be saved, not destroyed (that bit they both agreed on.).

And it helped, having the two people-well angels- who had seen it all and experienced it all to recollect their pasts. It was certainly more interesting and certainly more truthful than reading history textbooks.

Usually, Aziraphale and Crowley ended up bickering-always-with one another, both arguing that their side effected the humans more. They both looked to Eve as a judge, but she always thought they both had influenced Earth the same amount. It was incomparable. Every good thing Heaven had done was canceled out by every bad thing hell'd done.

Eve couldn't help but wonder if all the good things and the bad things were just results of simple human acts, and that always made her feel hopeful. Humans had fucked things up, and humans had fixed things up. No divine intervention indulged.

After a long bout of talking, they ate lunch. Most of the times, Aziraphale miracled something up, but there were those rare times when they went out of town. Bentley drove faster than a bloody penguin on fire and they reached the nearest biggest town under 30 minutes.

They always ate what Eve wanted.

Sometimes she wondered if this was what getting spoiled felt like, but every time she started to believe this, Crowley started bickering with her and she felt like she was losing and she realized she was just being _raised_. No demonic nannies, no angelic gardeners, and she felt normal most of the times.

Well, when she was having Aziraphale's sandwiches, she did _definitely_ feel heavenly. Even Crowley did too, although he wouldn't admit it.

After they had a scrumptious lunch, Aziraphale hustled out of Eve's flat to open his local library, a place to _'enlighten youngsters and parents with knowledge'._ Though most teenagers only came to gossip and read Fifty shades of Grey-she put it there, as a joke for Crowley. Luckily, Aziraphale has yet to find out-.

Crowley and Eve, who were left, played poker.

They had a strict no-cheating policy.

Because Eve could control reality, and the demon could change cards easily as blinking, they'd set a rule.

If they caught each other cheating, even once, they would have to complete a challenge given by each other.

Eve's challenge was not seeing Doctor Who for a year-see why she would die, rather than cheat?- and Crowley's challenge was confessing his love to his angel.

She had nagged him for _years_ to do it. It was just exasperating, seeing the demon and angel just kind of skirt between their feelings and be in that awkward state where kisses were okay but hugs were absolutely no no-s.

But she knew she had no hand in their relationship, so she just nagged and nagged and nagged.

Nagging was done mostly by telepathy, which she learned to do when Crowley and Aziraphale kept exchanging looks and conversations without opening their mouths. It was like some people were whispering to each other in front of her-and probably talking about her-but she couldn't hear; it was bloody exasperating. And annoying.

Learning telepathy had been fun, since people's thoughts were naughty but sometimes amusing. She tried not to listen to them, but people like Mr. Tyler, he deserved a bit of a snooping.

Though it had its downsides, to Crowley. She kept jumping in on his head, and he cared unnecessarily a lot about his privacy.

He had growled, and said that the only way to discipline a kid was to spank them-he was half joking, his lips kept twitching upwards-and then got punched in the arm by Aziraphale who had been greatly astonished.

Anyway. Crowley said he would rather die than cheat too, so they were able to play poker rather peacefully.

When the excited chattering of the other kids reached her after their school was over, she put down her cards, kissed Crowley on the cheek-he hated it so much- and ran outside to play with Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale.

They made up games and other exciting plays and ran around in the forest.

Her best friends, however stupid they felt to her sometimes, were _hers_, and she loved them to pieces, especially when they were sharing stolen apples from Mr. Tylor's apple trees.

They did this, just running and yelling and laughing, until about dinner time, when their parents called them back to their houses, one by one.

Eve ate dinner with her parents, sharing their day and how it was nice/bad, for whatever factor that day held. It was mostly nice days for her, because even if it was a bad day, she would never tell her parents. They would worry too much.

They knew about her bipolar disorder, but didn't know about how she disintegrated meds. They knew about her radical mood swings, but didn't know about the voices in her head.

Overall she thought she was keeping two realities relatively safe away from each other, the only interaction being between Aziraphale and her mum, who exchanged flowers nearly every day.

Eve didn't like flowers, personally. They sat there and looked pretty and in a moment it was rotting, the leafs drooping and the stem yellowing. It was a waste of time and effort, she thought.

Why have pretty things when it was going to _lose_ its prettiness? Wasn't it pointless, and just plain depressing to watch?

A lot of things were depressing to her.

She finished dinner mostly in depth in her own thoughts, and without a moment to rest-being alone made her too vulnerable to her own dark thoughts-, rode the bicycle to her part-time job at Aziraphale's library.

She called it a part-time job, but Aziraphale called it just volunteering for work. She didn't get paid, to her disappointment.

She stacked the books back in their places, which was the only thing she was allowed to do. It sounds boring, but to an Anti Christ, it was sort of exciting.

Because when no one was watching, a snap of her fingers, and everything was back to its place.

She smiled, smug, and grabbed another book, and read until it was library's closing time. Then she bicycled home, not forgetting to kiss Aziraphale on the cheek too.

And the last part of her routine was a secret from everyone.

She _wrote_.

She wrote stories she'd heard from the angel and the demon, and she wrote stories she had made up herself, and she wrote _love_, on how she was so looking forward to it, and she wrote adventure, how she was also looking forward to that, and she wrote _life_.  
How she was not going to end the world. How she was _never_ going to end the world.

Then the voices claimed her, and she went to sleep.


	12. Chapter 11 : A Favour

Eve was missing.

Well, she wasn't _missing_. She was hiding. Badly, judging by the fact that Crowley knew where she was.

He opened the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame. Eve was sitting on the toilet, the cover down, hugging her knees. She glanced up at him, eyes red.

"Go away." She muttered weakly.

"Aziraphale's doing magic tricks in the living room."

Eve didn't reply. Crowley sighed. "It _is_ your birthday. Show some effort."

"What is there to celebrate? That I'm getting closer the destroying to world?" Eve bit her lips, and he looked away from her eyes.

"You won't-"

"You _do_ know that it doesn't matter how many times you repeat that?"

"...We need to talk." Crowley said gruffly. It was time to tell her about the demons and their plans, and time to form some kind of a plan of their own. There was one year left. 365 days that they needed to use to wage war on both heaven and hell.

"Well, _talk_." Eve replied, rubbing her eyes.

Crowley brushed back his hair. "Not here. Just, come out."

Eve toppled off the toilet, took Crowley's hand and they walked out to the balcony, and on to the back yard.

They sat down on the bench, looking at the purple hued sky in sunset. The red light shadowed their faces, giving Eve a mysterious mirage.

"Eve, even if you don't want to bring upon Armageddon, there is a high chance that you're going to be forced to do so." Crowley started, and Eve nodded faintly.

"I know."

"Your family. Aziraphale. They're all in danger."

"You too," Eve turned around to him, and he shrugged, trying to look lighthearted.

"I don't matter."

"Yes you do. Everyone around me is in danger because of me. And, everyone on _Earth_ is in danger if I do what I'm destined to do." She breathed in deeply. "Crowley, I've thought about this for more than ten years. In every scenario, I have to make a sacrifice. It's always me, or us. And you know what I'm going to choose."

"What do you mean?" Crowley asked, feeling numb. He already knew what Eve was going to say, but he feared the answer.

"I'm choosing us, dummy." Eve quipped, flicking his arm. "Which is why I'm going to ask you for a favor."

"Eve-"

"When the time comes, Crowley, when I am finally _eleven,_ and ready to destroy the world," She paused, searching in his snake eyes. "I want you to save it."

"What?" He breathed out, clenching his jaw and Eve smiled tiredly.

"I was going to say this nicely, you know. But if you really need the straight answer," She hesitated. "I want you to kill me." At his blank face Eve easily recognized as shock, she held up a hand. "_If_ I destroy the world. _Before_ it's too late."

He shook his head roughly, after a cold moment.

"No. I'm not-"

"You're the only person I can ask," She interrupted. "Please, Crowley? For my parents. For _Aziraphale_."

Crowley stood, abruptly. "We're not having this conversation. I'm not killing _anyone_. Especially not a child.'

"I'm not just a child. I'm the Anti-Christ." Eve retorted, her voice brazen, and Crowley whipped his head back.

"And you are still a ten year old I _tutor_. Haven't you thought about what you mean to _me_? How can you just," His voice broke. "Ask me to kill you?"

She stood, her blond hair sweeping past her head. Her face was set, determined.

"I _know_ it's wrong of it to ask this of you, but what about everyone else? They are never even going to have a chance of deciding what to do with their lives, because _I'm_ going to kill all of them. But _I_ have a chance right now, and I'm deciding to save everyone. This is my choice, and I'm asking you to help me fulfill my decision."

"No," He growled. "You're just thinking of your _own_ guilt and your _own_ pain. You're being selfish."

She laughed bitterly. "Maybe. But you're the one choosing to destroy the world, rather then get blood on your hands. We're the same, you and I."

"Yes." He tried to shrug nonchalantly, despite the snarl in his voice. "Since I'm a selfish demon that doesn't care about anything else, I'm not killing you."  
He strode to the balcony door and was about to open it, when her voice caught him unaware.

"But you care about Aziraphale."

He stopped, his nails digging into his palm.

"He has nothing to do with this."

"Yes he does. If I wreck havoc on Earth, wouldn't I also kill the ones standing in front of me? Angels and demons alike?" She stepped forward. "I admit, maybe I _am_ being selfish when I'm asking you to help me. But the angel is _worth _it. He's worth it, Crowley. Maybe neither of us are innocent, or what we seem to be. But I would do anything to protect the ones I love and I know for a _fact_ that you love him."

She brushed past him, then paused before slipping inside the house.

"And I want you to save him."

With that the girl who barely reached five feet but was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders walked away and Crowley stood, fists clenched, every bone inside him _vibrating_ with her words.

* * *

Aziraphale was still trying to conjure a rabbit out of a hat when Eve smiled at him from the other side of the room. He smiled back, oblivious but happy.

And her tenth birthday, her last birthday in peace would be remembered as that moment, when Eve smiled at the angel and the demon walked in the room and gave her a single careful nod that signified _everything_ to her and when she realized-

The demon loved her too.

* * *

A/N: hello it's been a while but this chapter took me like months to write, seriously, even though it's short. Thank you for people still reading. Reviews are appreciated :)


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